


The Forest Fire

by moesilva13



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moesilva13/pseuds/moesilva13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the sequel to my other work-Withered Seeds. We will continue to follow the adventures of Aswren, Loki's wife and childhood friend. Will their relationship flourish or suffer under these new circumstances? (loose Avengers story, AU, Loki/OC)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is the sequel to Withered Seeds by me, following the journey of Aswren (AZ-ren): wife and childhood friend of Loki, the God of Mischief. This will follow the Avengers timeline (VERY loosely), just as the story before this followed Thor (however loosely). Anyway, enjoy and reviews are always welcome.

For several years Thor did not go after Aswren-he believed she needed this valuable time to sort out her swirling emotions. But when the family decided it was time to catalog and store Loki's belongings, Thor finally began to pursue the Princess.

Guards disassembled the bed, carrying the large metal frame in pieces out of the door. Thor was tasked with sorting his brother's nightstand, looking carefully at all of the trinkets he kept within arm's reach. Several glasses vials rolled around inside, filled with various colored liquids. Lots of papers: a few journals, experiment logs, instructions for spells. One especially thick journal, bound in black leather, was a series of maps and hand-drawn records of Asgard, Alfheim, Jotunheim, and other worlds. They were incredibly detailed, marked occasionally with notes as to why certain places are labeled. But the last few pages, perhaps 3 or 5, were ripped out. He ran his finger down the frayed paper, wondering what they might have contained.

His thick hands kept digging, and reached an interesting item towards the very back. In a black velvet box, about the size of his fist, sat a small silk bag of his brother's favorite green color. He picked up the bag, setting down the box, and gingerly opened the strings. Inside was a small whistle carved from a soft wood. The mouthpiece was a darker color with age, and on the backside was 3 buttons.

"What was this used for?" Thor wondered aloud. His eyebrow raised with an idea that this might have been how Aswren could be located in the thick forests. A tone would travel farther than the human voice, maybe for miles. He pocketed the piece of wood in his holster, placing the bag and box back inside the drawer.

Several minutes later he tracked down the royal magicians that had been left in charge of interworld travel. It took several of them to succeed in the transport of one person, and Thor could not fathom how Aswren went home on her own.

The brush was so thick that he could barely navigate it carefully, and the trees seemed to grow until they covered the entire sky, creating an artificial night. The air and leaves were damp with dew that was settling from a recent shower. Sounds from all kinds of animals created a steady hum with the trickle of running water. Thor stepped into a clearing at the edge of a stream, scanning the forest beyond. The water sparkled with it's own light from glowing fauna in the mud, so alive and and acting as a guide in the dark forest. Fishing in his pocket for the flute, Thor placed it to his lips and blew a single note. The sound was pure, light, and loud as it seemed to come from a much larger instrument. He blew a series of 3 notes, experimenting. His large shoulder's shrugged as he figured that was not Loki's call, but he would never know what was.

"...This is ridiculous, I don't even know if she is IN Alfheim." He sighed when the forest did not stir. A stick broke behind him and he spun around, rearing on his attacker with Mjornir armed in his fist. He strained against the lack of light, squinting to distinguish a figure.

"Thor." Aswren said, sounding oddly surprised. He reversed to see her standing on a rock opposite the water.

"Aswren." He whispered, widening his eyes and placing his hammer on the ground in surprise. She was absolutely glowing, not anything compared to someone who has spent her last few months in the woods. Her arms were defined and strong, legs more shapely with muscle. She did not wear a dress, but an outfit of hand-woven clothes and skins, with feathers in her wavy hair and beads that were most certainly gifted from the natives. A bow was strapped around her back, and even a sword hung low from her hips, but her skin was caught his attention the most. It seemed to emit a soft light, pale and hypnotic. Her veins stood out in a brilliant blue, as if the rain she conjured ran through them instead of blood. The shocking colors faded quickly to her normal complexion, but she had truly looked like a Goddess in her natural state.

"...You recognized the sound."

"Of the instrument, yes. Why are you here?" She spoke quick, coldly, and to the point.

"I came to check up on you, ask how you are coping. You seem to have become one with the forest." He nodded to her skin.

"Yes-Father is well, but he suspects his death is not far off. He has gifted me with most of his power in preparation for my inheritance."

"You would be kind to the Elves." Thor murmured, briefly glancing at his feet.

"You don't speak like you used to." He observed.

Thor immediately noticed how her voice was deeper in a sort of sadness, cold and bitter with loss. She was not bubbly and happy as she used to be.

"You have not found peace here?"

"Peace. Not happiness. I work so hard to sort through my active mind, and have in exchange lost my spark." Her lips tilted in a shrug, eyes flickering up to question him.

"Come, Aswren. I brought you something." He held out his big paw to her in a friendly gesture.

Her long feet sprung up to launch her over the water's gap, with little effort and no running start.

"My, you've gotten strong." He mumbled.

"Anyway, here. Chocolate, something I know you can't find out here." His smile was warm and sympathetic as he watched her eyes light up in the childish way he remembered.

"Thank you, Thor. You didn't have to bring this, I'm very self-sufficient." Her excitement was contained as she tried to maintain modesty, yet her incisors crunched over the bar in greedy bites.

His deep voice rumbled in a soft laugh. "You don't have to thank me. It's no trouble. I see you carry a sword; do you know how to use it?"

"I was given it before I left, but still am more adept at the bow. I want to learn to use it well because Father would have preferred me to have a sword over any other weapon. Family tradition and so forth, you know."

His eyes watched her munch happily, and he made her a modest offer. "I can train you. You expressed to me your desire to become a warrior before you left Asgard."

Her teeth stopped chewing to look up at him with a big question. "Really? Aren't I too old? You wouldn't mind?"

"It is the least I can do."

* * *

For several more months the two trained every day, from dawn to dusk and again in a constant cycle. He was more gentle with Aswren than with any of his other sparring partners, and it made him guilty how she would recognize when he was holding back, and retreat. Plainly refuse to work with him when he did not treat her as an equal. He supposed Loki and her had always shared that need to overcome inferiority, and the thunder God respected them immensely for it.

"Keep your stance strong, elbows and ankles wide. Don't hold back, because I certainly won't. And come at me." He coaxed her gently, Mjornir held in front him.

Her breath was uneasy, but her eyes burned strong, ready to strike. With a roar in her chest from the nature with which she sought refuge, her blade came down overhead, striking his hammer. They exchanged blows easily, quickly, with strife. She was light and lithe when she dodged his hammer, turning them several times in the heat of battle. His arms were heavy, knocking her down, but he would yell "Get up!" and she was back on her feet again. With time their blows became unpredictable and real. Thor noted that his pupil had a talent for speed, and balance, excelling in defense rather than offense.

"Keep coming, faster!" He encouraged, smiling when she reared back. Her sword uppercut against the hammer's handle with a mighty growl form her chest. His guard faultered under the force of the blow, and Aswren's foot came up to strike his wrist, throwing Mjornir back behind him. Before he could blink, the other leg came up to strike his jaw, sending him onto his back. She jumped onto his chest, both feet pressing into his torso, sword at his throat.

His throat rumbled into a laugh as his heartrate settled back down. "My goodness! You had me frightened, Aswren. I taught you well-you're quite the fighter."

"Really?" She smiled, stepping off of his chest and standing to offer her hand.

"Yes, I believe so. These past moons have done you alot of good, as far as training... He would be proud of you."

Her voice dropped significantly, appearing timid once again. "In his own way. Thank you for teaching me so much."

Her hand gave little support to his enormous bulk when she pulled the thunder God to his feet.

"It's wonderful. You can return to Asgard now, flaunt your impressive talents, and the other Gods will praise you for it!" He sounded happy, not looking at her face that grew cold, blue eyes narrowed.

"And then I will have father hold a tournament. We'll present you to any amount of warriors to choose from-" BAM! Her fist connected his jaw, nearly toppling him into the dirt at her feet.

"Is that why you think I wanted to become a warrior? To find another husband?"

He carressed his jaw which would have blossomed into a purple bruise without his immortal healing. "It is healthy to move on, Aswren. Being a hermet in the woods will not help you heal-"

His blues eyes widened as he dodged her other fist, backing away and summoning Mjornir.

"I AM HEALING! I wanted to be alone to clear my thoughts and cry. Scream. To express my mourning in any way I please. I wished to master my powers and become stronger for MY. OWN. SATISFACTION. I don't want another mate-no one could replace my best friend. On my wedding day, you were not there, but I made a promise in front of all of Asgard to never remarry upon his death. It wasn't for show, and I did it with every intention to keep that promise."

"Wren, please-"

"And furthermore!" She raised a long finger to silence him.

"Do not call me Wren. No one can call me that."

Her voice cracked on the last part of the sentence, giving way to tears that she hid as she turned to pick up her sword.

"Aswren." He corrected himself.

"Please, do not take offense. I meant no disrespect. I only wished to give you some happiness during this time." His arms flopped in a sigh of defeat.

"Then don't." The sword of magnificent steel glimmered when she turned to return it to it's holster.

"You're going to leave again?" He stepped forward, panicking.

She plopped down on a nearby rock, sitting limply. "No, I want you to go away."

"I will not."

"What? I don't have the strength to chase you away." Her head fell into her hands, hair spilling on her thighs.

"Perhaps that is for the better. I don't want to hurt you, Aswren. My brother loved you with all of his heart and I only want to help. My intentions were misguided, and I now understand what you need."

She did not look up, but her brow quirked in interest. "Enlighten me."

His eyes sparkled with a teasing glitter, and he tried not to sound dramatic or cheesy as he crouched to sit beside her rock. "A friend. Someone to confide in and laugh with. More than just flora and fauna. You are a beautiful person, Aswren. Loki could see that and he gave you every part of his love, leaving little for those he deemed beneath you. I am here to take care of his treasure."

Her shoulders collapsed under the vulnerability she fought to push away. "...Only when I cannot take care of myself?"

"If that is what you need." He smiled gently, feeling comforted himself as she looked familiar in the childish way he was used to seeing her.

Her sculpted shoulders rolled in a sigh of relief, relaxing and folding her hands. Blue eyes met his own just as blue, and she smiled warmly. "Thank you, Thor. You have certainly matured from the last time we spoke intimately."

His eyes lit up, slightly torn at the back-handed compliment. "Thank you for thinking so. I think."

* * *

For the handful of years to come until they saw the Other Brother again, Thor was happy to fulfill the position of best friend and guardian. He felt a protectiveness towards her, both as an obligation to Loki and his own new-found generosity. They kept pleasant company, and for awhile became the center of each other's worlds. Grief is one of the more powerful emotional motivators, bringing beings together that would otherwise have not looked twice at one another.

Aswren's light and airy laugh rang throughout the otherwise quiet palace, mixing with the crackle of the hearth in the center of the common room.

"No no no, wait." Thor persisted, chuckling also and waving his hands.

"So then, even after the monster knocked the tree clean over on him, poor Fandral managed to back himself into a patch of notched burrs-"

"-Oh no-" Aswren winced.

"-Oh yes." Thor took another sip of his mead.

"The armor protected most of him, but his face and hands did not fare so lightly." He concluded by downing the last of his tall glass.

"Poor man, luck was certainly not on his side today." She chuckled lightly, tipping her own glass back to finish it as well.

"No, I'm afraid not. But the rest of the trip was quite enjoyable."

"It's funny." She pointed in his direction, still holding her empty chalice.

"I manage to avoid injury quite often-more than most."

"As do I, the healers almost never see me."

"Oh, you take your fair share of hits, Thor, your skin is just thicker than mine." Her eyebrow wiggled playfully.

"This is true. But how do we compare in emotional wounds?"

She broke out into a grin and almost choked on her laugh. "Oh, please, Thor! Are you so drunk that we should pour our hearts onto the table and sing sad odes?"

"I'm almost there. More mead." He mused, pursing his bottom lip and refilling his glass with the carafe on the large table in front of them.

"Haha, all right. You start since you are so eager." She curled her feet tighter in the fur that laid over her legs.

Thor pondered the ripples in his cup thoughtfully, eyes reflecting the warm firelight when he looked up. "...Do you think of him often?"

"Every day. As often as you reflect on the mortal-Jane."

Thor's jaw tensed at the mention of her name, looking down and becoming preoccupied with the flickering flames of the glowing hearth. "We are very unsatisfied souls... Restless for what we have loved and lost."

"Oh, Thor..." Aswren rose from under her furs, going to sit beside him on the couch and wrap herself up again under another blanket.

"We have not lost them, merely been separated. Temporarily."

Her friend quirked up the corner of his mouth in a sad smile, wrapping a thick arm around her small shoulders, and remembering the memorial service they had held for his brother. "Your optimism was rescued from the forest, I see?"

"Oh, quite. I feel remarkable." She commented into her cup, gulping down the rest.

"This much mead will make anyone buzz in delight. Another." He grumbled lightheartedly, refilling her glass and holding up his own.

"To optimism?"

"...to Loki."

"To Jane."

"To good drink?"

"That too." Clink. Thor smiled as he took a long swig, finishing his and waiting for Aswren to quickly empty her own.

She pursed her lips, wincing at the burn of it sliding down her throat. Her arms went up to stretch languidly, grunting with stiff joints. "Ah, yes. That's it. Sleep sounds wonderful, don't you think?"

Thor nodded with a small sound in the back of his throat, blinking when Aswren slumped over his arm, as if she lost conciousness. "Did you perish?"

"Mm." She made a murmur of agreement into the material of the couch, laying still in a position that couldn't be comfortable.

"...This does not displease me, but I ask for my arm back." He pulled his bare arm from under her, watching as she curled into a throw pillow for support.

"Goodnight, Aswren." Thor bellowed with his last bit of strength, laying back and propping his feet up onto the coffee table.

"Goodnight, Thor."


	2. Chapter 2

"I'll only be gone for about a week, don't you worry." Aswren yelled from the closet, carefully packing a bag.

"What exactly is this ceremony, again?" Thor bellowed.

"I have control over the rain and water on my planet-my birthday marks the beginning of the wet season after the harvest. A weeks' worth of water that turns autumn into winter. Everyone takes the time off for holiday. It's practically a worldwide party."

She chuckled, winking at the God sitting on her windowsill.

"Sounds like a lot of fun. You sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"Well, you could if you wanted. I didn't realize whether you had business here or not to attend to. It's not the kind of festivities you're used to."

"Oh, I can appreciate any kind of party, don't you worry. I'd love to come, since you'll be traveling alone this year."

The Princesses hands froze inside her suitcase. "...Thank you, Thor."

"You're very welcome, Aswren." He smiled, bending to kiss the top of her head.

* * *

Thor hadn't bothered to ask how Aswren continues to make such frequent trips to her home realm without the BiFrost, but as he followed her on horseback to the broken bridge at the end of the city, he wished he had.

"Wait a minute, the bridge is out! Aswren!" Thor called after her, galloping to keep up with the woman ahead.

"Just wait, you'll see! We're right on time!" She called back.

"On time for what? Aswren, STOP!" Thor immediately pulled back on the reigns, skidding to a halt as the Princess rode on.

"NO!"

But before he could finish the portal that had appeared from the blackness swallowed the horse and rider, sparking away into nothing.

"...W-What?" Thor gasped, looking around for traces of the woman.

The Prince followed suit, forcing his horse on and praying that a similar light would carry him away from the abyss at the end of the rainbow bridge. He trusted her explicitly, perhaps wrongfully he thought as the world around him collapsed into a black absence of sight.

_"Welcome to Alfheim, Lady Aswren and friend."_

_Gasp_. Thor opened his eyes to find himself on solid ground. They were in the forests, he recognized, where the BiFrost` used to open up. A young male Elf was standing tall to greet them, all smoldering green eyes and a head of long blonde hair tied back from his face.

"I am Halcyon, Admiral Chief of the Royal Guard. This is my Captain, Marius, Commander Rochirion, and the 3 Mages: Lain, Badhor, and Abonnen, all of whom are Senior Officers. We are to escort you to the capital, your Majesty."

All at once the six men bowed, their right bracer folded over their heart-a sign of ultimate respect.

"Wow, six guards? I guess Father's still so rigorous with security. Lovely to meet all of you, though. This is my plus one for the week: Thor Odinson."

"Sir." Halcyon acknowledged, bowing his head.

"Gentleman."

* * *

Thor had never seen the inner territories of Alfheim, and his curious blue eyes eagerly scanned the expanding horizon. He noticed that with each terrain, a new "race", "species"—he wasn't sure what to call them—would emerge. The further North they traveled, the lighter the shades of flesh became, and the shorter their ears. Children played in the street with strange dogs that walked on six legs, birds as big as full-grown horses blacked out the forest sky for moments at a time.

"Don't you worry about animal attacks here? Every shape and size seem to be abundant and awfully close to the villages."

"My people worry about very little, Thor. Especially not the wildlife. There's an energy here, you see, and the planet is very much alive and connected to its inhabitants by this invisible force. The Elves worship it much like they worship you and I: their Gods. The electricity excites all living things, and has been compared to a soul. All of the animals, plants, ground, and people are connected. They communicate on a level deeper than our own, and even I don't understand fully the mutual respect that exists here. This planet is an ecosystem functioning perfectly in the balance between Elf and beast, and is something truly beautiful."

The thunder God looked over at his friend, watching the way her eyes darted back and forth to admire the forest around her. "I never knew you were so passionate about your home…"

"You never asked."

* * *

Elves filled the horizon, packed in a crowd that was too wide to be seen for its entirety. Upon the balcony of Freyr's balance, he, his wife, Thor, Aswren, and a handful of guards stood on display for this majority of the kingdom. The Princess stood proudly against the railing, the morning sunlight reflected from the jewels that rested upon her tiara. Thor smiled amused a few steps behind her, watching the young woman relish in the breeze that carried the smells of the feast and grass up to the third floor.

Gerd, Aswren's Jotun mother, came up to stand beside her. Her large, thin hands came up to fix the velvet of her sleeve as she leant down to whisper. "You didn't wear the gown I had laid out for you."

"No, mother, I didn't. I figured I would at least be comfortable on this very long day ahead of me."

"And you didn't pin your hair back."

"At least I had it curled."

"Yes, well, thank the Gods for that."

"Always lovely talking to you too, mother." Aswren smiled.

Thor and Freyr looked at both women, then to each other, and back at the girls. Freyr alone felt bold enough to respond.

"Everything all right?"

"Daddy, how do I look?"

"Beautiful as always." The God responded immediately, and flapping his mouth shut as Gerd met his eyes.

"…Well, a dress might have been better. I think. I don't know. Your mother thinks so."

Thor's eyebrow shot up into his hairline.

"Let us begin. Shall we?"

"Of course, Aswren." Her mother resigned.

The Princess turned to address the crowd, catching the eyes of those who looked over at just the right time. Every soul hushed within seconds, and she realized that they had been watching for the moment she would begin to address them. The words she intended froze on her tongue, and a shy chuckle bubbled up from her throat.

"Citizens of Alfheim. This is not the first time I have addressed you on the anniversary of my birth, but I still am not used to the sight of seeing so many Elves in one place, united under one cause. For some of you, home is here in the Capital, but I know most have traveled dozens and hundreds of miles for more than a few days. It is of the highest honor that I welcome you all here today…"

Thor whispered to Gerd as Aswren continued to speak to the Elves.

"What's going to happen after Aswren's speech?"

"As per tradition, the royal family from each District will present a single or set of gifts. The common people are asked for nothing." Gerd whispered back as a parade rounded the left column of the palace along the road. The colorful band of Elves were advancing quickly in a steady hum of bells, coins, music, and footsteps dancing in time. Children bolted for the road and climbed upon any available pair of shoulders to watch the carriages and carts pass by. All animals, soldiers, entertainers, even royalty had festive garb of silk, color, jewels, and even gold. Those that weren't fully dressed were painted completely in complicated designs and written language.

For the politics of the ceremony, each race of Elves brought forth their own representatives. The selected royal bloodlines of each state were easily distinguished from one another in the parade-from the tiny fairies to the Light Elves-each varied in color, size, and culture. Oberon had his brothers and sisters performing a light show with their magic for the Princess, scattering pixie dust and flowers over the excited spectators. They flew in intricate swirls and geometric shapes, blinking in shades of green, yellow, pink, orange, and purple. Oberon flew personally up to the balcony, bowing low in mid-air as he carried a velvet bag of Aswren's favorite color.

_"My lady. I present to you on behalf of The Northern Lowlands, a pot of Lavolin Nectar. May your year to come be blessed."_

"Ooh, Oberon, this  _is_  lovely. Thank you very much." Aswren smiled as she took the bag from him. With a flash of light, the blue fairy fluttered away to meet his family.

Overall, about 20 races were paraded past the palace, each with a gift specific to their skills and biome. The Sea Dwellers brought a pearl necklace harvested from their deepest trench, the Mountain Nomads presented a set of gemstones, those from the Poles-their name hadn't been easily heard- offered a collection of furs.

Aswren especially lit up at the fur coats and rugs, anything she considered practical. But of all the gifts she received, the High Elves from the Capital offered her favorite. Their present was alive.

"What... is this?" Freyr gasped, standing from his chair to look down at the crowd below.

Aswren's eyes blew wide and she pressed against the railing to look close. The Councilor of the High Elves dismounted, gesturing with one long, elegant hand.

"From the finest breeding and training the Avalon Family has to offer, Lady Aswren, I give you: Baldir— _Dontae Tigris_."

All eyes looked forward to watch the creature approach with massive, nearly silent paws. The enormous cat, resembling a tiger with size comparable to a horse, stopped obediently in response to a huff from the Elf holding his reigns. Canines as long as an adult's arm protruded from his upper jaw, and the length of his body was covered in a short summer coat of burnt orange fur and dark stripes, defined especially around his cheeks and  _eyes_. Golden glass they were, scanning and alert. He was a majestic creature, his broad head raised in waiting for his new master as Aswren scrambled to get to the first floor.

The Elves, his previous masters, had dressed the animal in ceremonial armor for the occasion: a saddle encrusted with precious stones, a chest plate of platinum, and a collar of blue sea glass, silver, and black leather. He seemed to wear it proudly, his rolling shoulders coiled back to display pectorals of feathery white fur and shining metal.

Aswren could barely believe the gift offered to her, and the Avalon family looked incredibly pleased with themselves to be able to afford the fortune that must have been invested in this animal. He was young, barely a Prince himself, and bowed his body in a lean line when the Princess came forward to study him with wide eyes.

All of her childhood Aswren had watched the High Elves training for battle atop their "mounts", enormous cats with magnificent speed and stamina. Large cats as soldiers were specific to the Elves, especially in the South. The Avalon family had pioneered the taming of the  _Tigris_  and other for their strength advantage, but never had a war to prove the potential of these feline soldiers. For that reason, and tradition, Freyr rejected that his army make the transition to feline mounts and continued to breed horses and boars. The Avalon family was making a very public and controversial statement here by gifting the Princess-who had recently raised her status to Warrior-with their innovation. But Aswren completely disregarded the political implications, and could only focus on the beautiful creature bowing at her feet.

Some Elves are skilled in telepathy, and Aswren briefly wondered if they had bothered to teach him basic language.

_"Baldir. You may rise and present yourself."_

_"My lady. I am at your service."_ A foreign voice declared inside her mind. The cat briefly met her eyes, standing and lowering his head so that she may touch him.

Aswren's hand hovered above the warm nose, hesitant before pressing against the short fur. This was Baldir's submission, to avert his eyes and surrender his sensitive snout to touch. The crowd recognized the formation of a sacred bond, and erupted in a roar of applause.

The Princess broke into a grin as she turned to address her people, the enormous mount waiting patiently at her side.

"Citizens and Members of the Council: I want to thank everyone for their attendance in our Capital on this most glorious day, as well as all of these lovely gifts. I'm sure you're all anxious for dinner-especially I-so let me not keep you any longer. The Games will begin in exactly two hours in the Piscine Garden, but for now let us feast."

The crowd clapped wildly, taking off in the multiple directions of long outdoor tables set with a cornucopia of different foods. Certain races tended to gravitate towards specific tables, and Thor realized as he looked around that the arrangement was no accident.

He descended the steps of the palace to come upon Aswren. "You know what they all like?"

She was already stacking her plate with meat and bread. "We have food brought in from each district, and they recognize what they are used to hunting and gathering themselves."

"This entire festival is amazing..." The God mumbled as he followed her lead.

"We try our best."

"What did you mean by 'The Games'? What happens in two hours?"

"As part of the entertainment, we host games: feats of strength, magic, agility, intelligence, so forth, and each district submits a contestant. They are usually a member of the royal family, but we invite the common people to watch and place bets. The winning nation is given a gift."

"You host events every day?"

"No, just on the first day. Then the real festivities begin. Everyone throws their own party, and then the rain comes. People dance under the downpour in the streets, children play in their soaked clothes, the workers sit down for a long rest-it's going to be beautiful."

Thor only started at her for a few long moments, deciding finally to lean over and place a kiss on the top of her head.

"I don't know how I went through so many years of my life without having seen what you do for these people."

* * *

"Ladies and gentleman: Welcome to this year's Freyrlief Games, as per tradition hosted in our realm's capital: Valakunta." Freyr proclaimed. He addressed the grassy lawn full of seated Elves that surrounded the arena dug deep into the planet below.

This "colliseum" was a great crevice below ground-level, accessible only by a single flight of stairs that ran along the East wall. The ground was level and void of imperfections, but mages were already filing down the staircase to create an obstacle course from the vulnerable Earth at their feet. Therefore each challenge was different, with a unique terrain.

"The object of the Games is to conquer each challenge by submitting one contestant from each nation to compete. Each test will represent one 'round', and can have a focus on a multitude of strengths. The first contestant to successfully complete the challenge will earn one point of credit. The nation with the most acquired credits at the conclusion of all 19 challenges will have a gift bestowed upon their citizens. This year, the prize is 10,000 Mons."

Aswren had tuned out her father while he rambled on with the formalities not long after he said welcome, and leaned over to Thor when she saw his eyebrows peak. "There are 19 nations, and each challenge is modeled after a single country. Therefore each contestant has the chance to earn at least one point. You earn multiple points however, when you can adapt and succeed in an environment that is not your own. That is what creates victors."

Freyr continued. "Let me introduce to you the competitors. From the Weyland Sea: Castiel. From Tordor: Sanje. From the Northern Forests: Leek. From the Bergarass Plains: Brunhildor. From Isgasil: Marcus-"

"-Wait a minute." Aswren whispered, not disturbing the King as he rattled off nations and names, waving his hand at each young man.

_Young men._  She thought, eyes following the lads that walked across the platform at the mouth of the arena.

Thor was solemn as he admired the warriors dressed for battle. In Asgard, the men still fought more than anyone else, and he wasn't phased by no women presented as contestants. But Aswren knew better, who had in her youth seen many women and even children come forward to claim first prize.

These men were obviously handsome, some lean, some built, and painted across their chest and cheeks in delicate arches. She knew those marks, although they had never before been directed at her. They were like neon signs, proclaiming a person's fertility as obvious as a woman carries her mature hips and breasts. And that wasn't the only anomaly here-Aswren recognized many of the men from the banquets and diplomatic meetings had she frequented before.

_Princes._

The widow narrowed her eyes before taking her seat again by Thor with a frown.

He leaned down to whisper. "Is everything all right?"

"Freyr has turned the Games into a competition of suitors."

Thor's eyed darted from Aswren to the arena and back. "Suitors? How do you know?"

"I recognize their paint. It's a romantic dialect of Elfish, meant to proclaim viability and unwed status... You couldn't possibly understand how upset I am. This is my  _birthday_  party, and even today my parents couldn't leave the subject of marriage at the door."

"...Are you going to be all right?"

"...Fine."

* * *

Several hours later, Marcus was proclaimed the champion: a well-built lad from Isgasil, the only upper-class city just east of the capital. The boy was covered in filth and obviously exhausted, but hazel eyes peered excitedly from beneath his brown fringe to smile at the Princess. His ears were short and leaf-shaped, as is consistent with this Eastern race. The war-paint that once read "First born, viable, available" was smeared across his tanned skin in red and gold streaks.

Aswren cradled the box of ten 1,000 Mons credit pieces, her expression having not changed from cynical and accusatory.

"Congratulations, Marcus of Isgasil." She quipped.

"May your nation have eternal days of peace and prosperity."

"Actually, Aswren." Her father interjected.

"I have invited Marcus to dine with us this evening, privately. It is a tremendous privilege for the people of Isgasil."

"...I'm sure it is."

Freyr rested his hand on his daughter's shoulder, fully aware of how uncomfortable she was.

"I will have 2 servants show you to a bathing room, Marcus, and have a fresh change of clothes waiting."

"Yes, your Majesty." The boy obediently replied, licking at his salty lip.

"We look forward to having you at dinner. Don't we, my darling afir?" The God squeezed his daughter's shoulder.

"The pleasure is all mine."

* * *

Most of Aswren's patience was channeled at her parents, who ate together at the head of the table. Every question intended to encourage a conversation was answered swiftly and concisely, as chaste an answer as was respectable. The Prince at her side could sense her passive aggression, and did not talk for most of the meal, choosing only to speak when spoken to. Usually to answer either Freyr or Gerd about his upbringing, training, parents, the usual jargon.

The meal's end was the most noise made for the past hour, concluded with high bows, handshakes, and quick goodbyes.

Aswren was following Thor up the stairs to their room when a voice called from the ground.

"My lady Aswren!"

Her head looked around for the man, spying the Prince at the bottom of the staircase. "Marcus."

"If I might have a word in private, your Majesty. I would be most honored."

"...As you wish." She replied, waving Thor when he turned to look back down at her.

"You go on, Thor. I'll be up in a few minutes."

The Prince extended his hand to helped her down the steps, a last ditch attempt at a smile on his lips. Her smile as equally half-hearted, ticking up only one corner of her petal-shaped mouth. But despite her animosity, Aswren allowed herself to be led into the parlor, a roaring fire already stoked inside the fireplace. Marcus gestured for her to sit, and she reluctantly look a spot against the arm of the plush couch.

For what seemed like a long while he didn't speak, pondering his hands threaded together as he leaned on his knees. Finally, he managed to mutter into the tense silence of the room, his accent slurring his quiet words.

"...Is it I that you are not pleased with?"

"No, Marcus. That's not it at all. I just... was surprised that my Father turned the Games this year into a 'Tournament of Suitors'. Against my wishes, I'll add."

He looked surprised, sitting up. "You are not looking for a husband?"

"No, it's actually the furthest thing from my mind right now. I'm not ready yet."

The warrior's features softened as he scanned her melancholy eyes. "Your husband, 'the Green Prince' the Elves called him, you have not gotten over his death."

He watched her sit still, giving only a vague answer as she refused to meet his eyes.

"I do not blame you, my lady. I, too, was not here by mine own choosing. My father entered me into the Games upon Freyr's request, but I don't want to be married."

"Why did you win, then? No one would have blamed you for coming in second."

"I thought winning and earning a dinner with a Princess might convince me that I want to marry one. But when I saw how unhappy you were, I remembered how unsatisfied I am. For my heart belongs to another, one I am not allowed to possess."

Aswren sat up as he peaked her interest. "You are love with a citizen?"

He chuckled bitterly. "She is my chambermaid. You understand the scandal that would ignite for my family."

"…You know, Marcus, it is only since my husband's death that I finally see how many souls live unsatisfied. Love unfulfilled is so much more widespread than we care to admit. Especially in those most privileged."

"What a shock it would be to the people, then? To learn that the common man is the only one truly free to love. Perhaps then they would stop worshipping us, when they find out that they alone hold the greatest treasure in all the nine realms."

"They wouldn't stop their worship, but they would begin to pity us. And rightfully so. Is this the price for royal blood?"

"I go to sleep every night pondering that same question. Would it mean I could marry any woman I please, I would forfeit my status."

"For love, I would give my powers."

* * *

The next morning, the Princess had to drag herself from her bed, dreading the tense breakfast that she knew was already waiting downstairs.

"Aswren." Freyr quipped from another part of the entryway.

"May I have a word?"

"Yes, Father. What of?" The Princess made a swift turn from the dining room, hiking up the spiral staircase after him.

Freyr kept close to the door as he motioned for her to sit, and he made sure to click the door shut before he joined her across the parlor. Sun drifted in from the open windows behind them, already starting to fade as the makings of clouds crept up on the horizon. Aswren suspected the nature of her father's discussion but she continued to wait patiently as he sighed and fought for words while running a meaty hand through his curly red hair. He tugged at his beard, scratching the short hairs as his blue eyes bore holes in the rug.

"…I'm sorry. I had nothing to do with the games yesterday, Aswren, I swear. Please believe me, I never meant for your birthday to take such a distasteful turn-."

"—oh, spare me, father." The princess snipped.

"You had to have known something."

"No, truly! I have nothing to do with the games, your mother is the one who always—"

"—Freyr." A deeper female voice warned from the doorway.

"Freyr, darling, if you don't mind I would like to speak to my daughter alone, please."

The God sat perfectly still until Gerd's icy stare finally panned over to him. He relented, leaving the room with a last glance at his youngest child.

Aswren only spoke when the room was quiet again. "Tell me, mother, what exactly was your plan?"

"To create an engagement, of course."

" _Why?_ " The princess spat.

"Aswren, this is madness. It's been what, 3 years? 4? You must pick another suitor. I gave you over a dozen men to choose from and you had the audacity to make that dinner as uncomfortable as possible. Marcus was ashamed, Isgasil is outraged that you rejected their Prince, do you realize how SELFISH you are?! 19 men, Aswren. That's more of a choice than I had!"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You don't understand the privileges you take for granted. Do you know many young women would fight to the death for a choice in their husband? I didn't even want to marry your father, but his status was in my best interest. For the Gods sake, he had his servant boy court me for him. I want more for you than that. And certainly more than waiting for a man who isn't coming back."

Aswren refused to face her mother as a single, silent tear fell upon her taut cheek.

"You want me to have a choice? I choose the man I am already married to."

"Oh, Aswren, put your self-righteous notions aside! If not for me then for your father. I should tell you that the vision of his death is complete. During the final battle of the Gods, Surtur will end your father. He won't tell me what will become of you or me, but we must assume the worse. Everyone will be called to fight and an heir of Freyr's bloodline must take the throne."

"You doubt the Elves. Let the conclusion of Ragnarok mark the beginning of a period of self-government."

"They haven't been self-governed for millennia, Aswren. Texts on the subject are in a dialect that is only read by a handful of scholars, such a drastic change in leadership would cause chaos. I don't doubt that our time in power is dwindling but transition must be smoother than a war that leads to the devastation of this planet and no one to pick up the pieces. You must bear an heir, sooner rather than later."

"I'm not a child, mother, and haven't been one for some time. I'm old enough to make decisions for the betterment of my people independently, and I don't believe that marrying Marcus, or any Elfish Prince, is the answer to our problems. So in regards to  _my_  personal life, I will do my waiting for Loki as long as I please."

Gerd's face tightened as she fought to still her raging blood. She took one last shot in the dark.

"Then you will not do it here. Either you pick a suitor by the winter or you return to Asgard and stay there. Indefinitely. I will have succession moved to your cousin, Gersemi. She is to be wed in the spring. "

Aswren froze, her mind threatening to derail. "And my powers?"

"Are at stake. You know very well that our gifts are a privilege, Aswren. They must be earned. With so much in the balance, we cannot leave these decisions to the  _chance_  that Loki will return as your husband. You must accept that even if he was to come home, what all is left of your marriage? The God is a criminal, a traitor, who as soon as he sets foot into Asgard will be arrested and tried—"

"Have care how you speak, mother. You're threatening to extradite me and insulting my husband in the same sentence."

"I have to. This isn't a game-this is the burden of ruling. If we were not facing another war, I could let you have 100 suitors and turn them all away one-by-one. But circumstances change. You can either have the hope that you cling to so desperately, or everything else."

Icy eyes stared hard into ones equally blue as the Goddesses' mind raced. On one side of the argument she could wait long enough for Loki to return, reclaim her place at his side, perhaps even start the family she had wanted for years now. Her mother couldn't really take her power, she would need a judicial order, and the courts won't grant one for anything less than murder or treason. But the other option would still leave her with a throne, husband, and children, only with her parents blessing and all within a reasonable amount of time.

"…I will send you my decision on a Prince before the end of the season."

Gerd let out a sigh, her shoulders falling. "I am so pleased to hear that. Despite what you may believe, Aswren, I only want what's best for you. A princess has privilege, choices, and a grieving widow is no way for her to spend a lifetime."

"Perhaps not. I should get back to breakfast, Thor is probably wondering where I am."

"Oh, yes of course! Go on, you must be starving. I'm sorry to have kept you for so long."

The towering woman reached out to her daughter as she turned to leave, grasping her head to lean in and place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, Aswren."

The daughter smiled back at her as practiced and calculated as the smirk of a certain trickster she knew.

"And I you, mother."

She left the room in a huff, obvious to anyone who watched from the stairs or long, white hallway. Only as the young woman made a bee line for her room to pack a suitcase, she missed the hunched figure of her father outside the parlor, waiting patiently on a couch along the wall. He jumped to his feet, outraged that a heated argument between his wife and daughter left the latter storming up the stairs and locking her door.

He met Gerd in the doorway and forced her back into the room. The lock clicked behind them. "Gerd, darling, what did you say-?"

"—there's no need to worry, Freyr. Aswren and I amended the succession situation, she's going to marry one of the Princes after all."

"What... What succession situation? What are you going on about?"

"You came to me with your vision, I'm merely securing our place in power. You said yourself our bloodline must survive after Ragnarok."

"Yes, I said that because I  _saw_  it, Gerd. I SAW the one will survive the war: Aswren's son. And Loki, he… I doubted Aswren too about her faith that he will return. But now I know he must. The warrior who emerges to claim Alfheim's throne is the trickster's son."


	3. Chapter 3

"Aswren?"

The Princess turned from the balcony overlooking her courtyard to avoid the Thunder God's eyes. "Yes, Thor?"

He came up beside her to lay a hand on her waist and look back out at the people below. "They all seem so happy, don't they?"

Elves were still stretched as far as the eye could see in the morning sun, buzzing aloud with soft conversation and preparations for the night to come.

"The festival has only just begun. Of course they're happy—excited even."

"They're happy because of you." He watched her bite the soft flesh of her lip before continuing.

"All of this: the feasts, the music, the gifts, all of this you give to them year after year, and ask for nothing in return. On your special day, no less. These people are your subjects, and they above all recognize that their Princess has literally the kindest heart that any future queen could have. They  _worship_  you. Both today and every other day that you let life-giving rain come down their mountainsides. You give these people life, and in return they give it back to you."

"What do you mean?" They both would pretend that her voice hadn't cracked with the making of tears.

"Their happiness means yours. You can live vicariously through them, despite what is transpiring behind closed doors. I heard what your mother said earlier, and what you promised her. But know this, Aswren Freyrlief…"

He turned her by the shoulders to look down into her sparkling, blue eyes. "…I will help you. The months to come will be the hardest yet, but I won't abandon you. And I will stand by your decision. Whoever that may be."

It was then that the tears fell freely from her tired eyes, coming down in wet sobs. The older God pulled her to his chest. Of all the words he could offer her, those were the few she had wanted to hear least of all. Aswren hadn't possessed any intention of choosing a suitor when she had agreed with her mother, but in front of her people, left to her own thoughts, the Princess can only bear so much loneliness. Her mother's words had begun to sink in: what exactly is left of their marriage? What hope  _is there_ after this many years? And now, enveloped in her best friend's embrace, assured that he will support any man she chooses, that hope broke. Strained under the weight of her parents, propriety, society, friends—she surrendered.

"Do you know what I am looking forward to?" Thor whispered against her hair.

"What?"

"This time I won't miss your wedding."

* * *

That night, the Capital gathered once for one last feast and dance. The music was encompassing, vibrating throughout the palace in a dull roar as if it was just below the floors. Aswren sat at her looking glass in vain, primping the curls across her shoulders. A delicate crown of gold and assorted gemstones laid in a band across her forehead, nestled among the waves of hair that reached her lower back. Just as she brushed the excess gold dust from her cheeks, a thick hand came down on her bronze shoulder.

"Are you ready to go?"

"I think so. Does anything look out of place?"

"Not in the slightest. You look wonderful." His fingers came up to brush a dark chocolate lock from her cheek.

"Come. Let us go celebrate your birthday."

"…Yes. Let us."

She listened to his heavy footsteps as they left the room, her eyes drawn to the glittering gold bands on her vanity table. It had been years since she wore the wedding rings on her fingers, but Aswren was a sentimental woman, and still kept them together on a long golden chain.

Without thinking, she snatched the rings from the tabletop and stuffed them inside her blouse, making a dash for the door.

* * *

By the time Aswren ran down to the courtyard, Thor was already waiting for her, halfway into his first cup of drink. He sat calmly among a spread of food, content to sit, listen to the music, and nurse his mead. Or what he thought was familiar alcohol.

"This is fantastic, what kind of mead did you say this was?" Thor bellowed at the servant, draining the last of his goblet.

 _"It's not mead, I said. Its clameed, a native drink."_  The servant answered in a language Thor couldn't understand, he only heard mead and licked his lips lightly.

"Whatever it's called, it matters not. Another!" He roared, smashing his cup down on the table.

 _"Certainly more powerful than your honey water. You will not be able to stand after 3."_  The waiter smiled as he topped him off.

"You're welcome. Actually I have no idea what you just said." The God slurred, pushing his nose into the cup.

The soft Earth shifted under her bare feet as Aswren walked among the crowd of her people, immediately feeling overly heated from the thousands of moving bodies and roaring bonfire in the adjacent field. Everyone was painted in an orange, golden glow from the flames that lapped at the expanse of stars in their blackened sky. The scent of seafood and roasted vegetables filled the chilly night air, along with the hearty saltiness of red meat. The more that was eaten, the more they danced, the more the scent of sweat and disregard wafted from the crowd. Aswren had mingled at first, drinking casually and munching on a samples from whoever offered her a taste of their plate. It was when she found herself alone that she looked around for her friend.

"Thor?"

She heard his gruff voice yell from across the fire.

"ANOTHER! Bring on the next challenger!"

"Thor? What in Freyr's name is going on?"

Aswren slipped through the crowd, poking her head into a ring of spectators surrounding Thor and another man. The waiter from before stood between them, counting silently to three and slicing his hand through the air. Thor and the unnamed Elf immediately leapt at each other, sparing blows for heated wrestling-a pulling and shoving at the other's armor until one was pinned to the soil. Thor gave a mighty roar, letting all his weight come down on the smaller elf and holding him by the shoulders underneath his bulky frame.

_"End! The undefeated champion, performing on 5—6! Cups of clameed: Thor, Son of Odin."_

Thor panted lightly, letting himself be hauled to his feet by the spectators that cheered for him. All he heard was his name in a foreign accent and he beamed proudly, smiling into his new cup of drink.

"Oh, Thor." The Princess chastised.

"Aswren!"

"Dear Gods, Thor, you shouldn't even be awake after this many cups of Elfish drink. Let alone fighting my constituents." She smiled, letting herself be pulled into his embrace.

"It's just mead, I could go for another few hours." The last of the cup fell down his thick throat, his lips pulled back in a wince at the burn.

"Is that what they told you?"

"Not exactly. Your man said ka-something-mead, which I assume is close enough. Perhaps it's mixed with a type of berry?" He clicked his teeth in indifference.

"Maybe. Wonderful hypothesis, as always."

"You should have some, it's a taste I think you would like." The God's meaty paw shoved the goblet at her mouth.

"Oh no, I'm fine. Really, I become so useless very quickly. I shouldn't."

"I-" He paused to hiccup internally.

"-will look after you. Go on. It's your special day, after all."

"…All right. Just a sip."

Thor watched eagerly for her reaction as she let the purple liquid lap at her lips.

"Oh, that's not bad. Strong, but the taste is so pleasant."

He only smiled at her when she soon found herself at the bottom of the cup.

"Another couldn't hurt."

* * *

_"Zu-zu-zundo!"_

The crowd cheered in their tongues, clapping their hands for the people in the center of the circle. Drinks had stopped bring counted, and spirits were running high. Aswren had let herself be carried away, accepting  _tuncas_ from an excited citizen, bands of bells and coins that go around the hands for ritual dancing. The crowd was thousands of swaying bodies, flailing their arms and vibrating the ground with the stomps of their feet in the cool soil. Their native language was floating up into the night air as people joined in singing when they recognized a song or caught onto the words from a neighbor.

But in the eye of the storm was Aswren, enjoying herself in a way that she hadn't for a very long time. In dance she had no reason to hinder herself, to paint on a facade for those she was obligated to impress. Here, among her citizens, she could come down to the courtyard and pretend that the title 'Princess' did not precede her name. In these rare moments she was to them a friend, and to Aswren this was the simplest of satisfactions.

Her head was cloudy, whited out from the combined effects of alcohol and deafening drums. And despite an obvious fatigue, her body continued to cavort in a ritual of bold gyrations and a flick of delicate wrists. The flood of endorphins coursing through her veins was enough of a medicine to soothe the wounds in her heart, and even confuse the God's mind to believe they weren't there.

The crowd suddenly parted just enough for one being to slip through the tight ring. Upon meeting his eyes, Aswren found herself floored, almost shocked enough to throw her body to it's knees.

"…Loki?" She whispered, not loud enough to be heard by anyone. The word was just a roll of the tongue and a faint click in the back of her throat.

The Elf was completely unaware of his dangerous looks as he took a stance in the circle with her. He was staking a claim, calling on the most primitive of mating rituals in the animal kingdom: dance. His alabaster skin glistened in the firelight, an unusual color for mainlanders, most likely a sailor and even more likely a pirate. A delicate medallion of gold bounced against his lean chest with every pump of his sternum, and loose trousers fluttered by long legs. His dark hair, cropped close to his neck, fell across his carved cheekbones when he shook his damp fringe free. But those eyes were what held her still, entranced as he moved. They were the same shade of gemstone green that she longed for, peppered by gold from the bonfire, and pinning her down with their smolder. She was helpless as she let herself be held close, swaying to his rhythm, a faun that squirmed in the jaws of their predator. And at the moment, there was nowhere else she would rather be.

Suffocated by the music and alcohol assaulting her system, she tumbled headfirst into the delirious territory of mistaken identity. One should never consume to chase away their demons, because consumption is exactly what brings those demons to life.

"Oh, Loki." She breathed into the moist air between them.

"Will you forgive me… for being so forward, my lady?" He whispered. And only the first part of the phrase went heard. Had he spoken a language besides English so well, Aswren might have awoken from her trance before she fell completely from grace.

 _"Yes._ " And without a second thought, grabbed the Elf by his hair to press their lips together.

The stranger gasped, almost pulling away with fear of the repercussions. But the way she clung to him, desperate, the need coming off her in waves, convinced him to hold on. His thin hands came up to cradle her back, splayed wide across her golden skin.

* * *

On the other side of the universe, Loki peered into his looking glass with a sneer of contempt. He spared the stranger his thoughts, focusing on the grip of Aswren's hands on the back of his head, her mouth slotted against him, the greedy way she pressed against his chest.

Only earlier this evening had he watched her stare into her mirror longingly, and crying his name into her hands the night before. It was the warm metal of her wedding rings that cut into her sternum through the tightness of her embrace with this Elf.

Even pressed to her heart, she couldn't remain his.

Even as he invaded her thoughts, trying to preserve his memory, he couldn't manage to keep her.

 _…even if he was to come home, what all is left of your marriage?_ Gerd's voice rang sharp in his throbbing skull.

His powerful hand came down on the bowl he peered into, throwing it against the wall. The ceramic shattered outward, water spraying over the stone table and himself. And with his head pressed into wet hands, a hoarse cry tore itself from his throat. The agonizing echo that followed would be heard for galaxies and leave a burn that would linger for days.

* * *

Aswren's hands held the stranger close in a rigid grip, afraid that if she let go this fleeting image of her husband would vanish. It was upon threading her fingers through his raven hair that she froze.

The ears.

_Those were not Loki's ears._

She wrenched her mouth from his, eyes wide in horror as black locks ended up tucked behind one pointed ear.

His swollen mouth was open with light panting. "What's wrong?"

"… I don't feel well. Please forgive me." She spluttered, taking off into the crowd and in the direction of her house.

"Wait!" Aswren barely heard him call out as she sprinted through the courtyard.

Pass the garden, in the other side of the house, her legs finally buckled, sending her to the ground in a whimpering heap. She curled the grass in handfuls against her palms, teeth ground tight with the force of holding back tears.

 _Not again. No more tears, please. Make this stop._ She begged someone, anyone, any deity that could extract this hot, white pain that coiled around her heart and squeezed.

For a lack of anything left to do she simply laid against the grass, evening dew dampening her clothes and hair. A torrent of emotions was holding her still, limp and helpless as it thrashed against the inner walls of her mind, drowning and all-consuming. Grief and loneliness had walked her to the gallows, but guilt became the executioner. The alcohol dug her a temporary grave, and she passed out into a deep sleep right there on the lawn. Had there been a single sober soul on the grounds that night, we might know exactly how long she slept.

Though from across the estate the party was still going strong, heard loud and clear as a cold piece of flesh pressed against her arm.

"Oh!" She jolted awake, frighteningly sober, and met large, amber eyes.

 _My lady. Are you all right?_  Baldir spoke in monotone to her mind.

Her hand came up to rub the short fur of his snout.

"I'm fine. I just had to get away from the festivities for a while."

_I can smell your feelings. You are distressed._

"…I miss my mate."

_They are away?_

_"_ I guess. He's been missing for so long that he's believed to be dead. I suppose I should start accepting that fact. You can only hold onto hope for so long without completely mad."

The tiger leaned back onto his haunches, toes curling as he visibly thought.  _That is strange._

"What is, Baldir?"

_It is different with my kind. When we choose a mate, we change. Our scents become one, unique to one another. If our mate dies, our scent changes again. It sours, and smells incomplete. Only a hint of our other half remains. It must be different with humans._

"Why do you say that?"

_Your scent is not incomplete. Perhaps humans retain their combined smell after death._

Aswren sat up as she reached the same conclusion.

_Or perhaps your mate is not dead._


	4. Chapter 4

"We must not tell anyone, do you understand?"

_My lady, the house will be pleased to know your mate is alive._

"No, they won't. Even if they did believe us, Loki has fallen out of grace with both realms. This must be our secret, Baldir, okay?" Her voice was hushed, a whisper against the fine hair of his nose as she stroked his cheeks.

_… If that is your wish. I will obey._

"Thank you, my friend. I ask that you come back to Asgard with me. Would you like that?"

_Leaving Alfheim is no issue, Lady Aswren. I will follow you if you ask._

"Thank you, Baldir. I could use the company. Thor is acceptable, but he doesn't know everything that you do."

_My duties are to serve you, my lady, in every way that you need. You are my… what is the human word?_

"Friend?"

_Amme, the Elves say._

"… Mother."

* * *

In the silence of tunnels surrounding him, Loki was left to do nothing more than dwell on his own thoughts. The scepter in his rigid grip began to glow, throwing his subconscious into a waking dream of the days before he came to Earth.

"We know of your past, Asgardian. We know who waits for your return."

The Chitauri held his palm open, materializing a window to another realm. Aswren's form slowly fizzled into view, her hair strewn over one shoulder as she pulled the reigns back to halt her mount's heavy steps. But Thor was there as well, his hand extended to help her down from the tall animal. The thunder God's mere presence was enough to immediately sour Loki's tone of voice.

"She means nothing to me. We were wed for diplomacy—our marriage is but words."

"You paint us for fools.  _That_  is most unwise."

The vision within his palm began to move, ripple into an image of the past, even before the destruction of the Bifrost. All lights were extinguished, save for a single oil lamp on the side table beside a wide bed, generously layered with furs and silk. The trickster swallowed a lump in the back of his mouth when he recognized his own bed, and a nest of brown hair that peeked from beneath the duvet.

 _"Aswren."_  A younger version of himself whispered to the brunette beside him.

_"Aswren. Wake up, darling."_

He brought down the cover to expose a bare shoulder, his lips placing gentle kisses on her honey-colored flesh. She squirmed with a grimace at having been awoken, settling back into his chest and the surrounding furs.

_"Ooh! You're freezing. Get back under the covers."_

_"Ha, I am. Perhaps I need some of your warmth."_

The bundle of heat in his arms turned around to face him, legs intertwining with his and wide blue eyes open to interpretation.

 _"Your family would not be pleased to find me asleep in your bed."_ She whispered.

_"There's no way they could ever find out though, correct?"_

_"I don't know. Is that why you've been playing with the illusion spell so much lately?"_

_"This was not a reason for me to stop perfecting that spell, surely."_

Aswren's chuckle rang in the thick air between them.  _"You're a trickster, that's what you are. More deviant than sorcerer."_

 _"Oh, but you love me anyway."_ And before Loki could revise the statement that ran from his mouth, he froze, silver tongue failing him. The pair of them were barely adults, still kids to most, and love hadn't been an issue until this moment. The 'L' word had been thrown around before in passing and light jesting, that wasn't the problem. Now, in the wake of intimacy, bared in both body and spirit, the notion of love held a totally different meaning. Aswren saw the insecurity in the green eyes above her and reached out to cup his cheek with her delicate palm.

 _"… I do. I love you, Loki."_  She said only loud enough to hear between the sheets.

_"I love you too."_

The Chitauri snapped his palm closed, throwing Loki back into reality.

"Your reasons for marriage were so obviously… diplomacy. If you fail, if the Tessaract is not within our possession, the hunt will not come for you. Because we know exactly where to find what is most precious to you. You think you know pain? When she is ours, you will long for something as sweet as PAIN!"

The sharp nails against his face threw Loki from his vision, desperately trying to suck air into his lungs. His heart pounded against his heaving ribs and a lump of bile rose in his throat as he recalled the events he'd been shown. If it was that easy to see into the trickster's past, what else had that monster seen? The flesh on his arms and chest prickled in anxiety, feeling violated and unclean. His pale, slender hand trembled as it came to the back of his neck, fondling the golden chain under his hair. Aswren had a similar chain, the contents on the end exactly the same.

_How can I forget you when the universe is intent on keeping our destinies intertwined?_

* * *

"Stuttgart, Germany, 28 Konigstrasse. He's not exactly hiding, Sir." The soldier piped up, swiveling his chair to let the Captain see his computer monitor. Images flickered and re-sized, revealing a casually dressed Loki who made his way to the Opera House.

"Captain." Fury ordered, meeting his eyes. "You're up."

* * *

"THOR!"

Aswren screamed, shooting up from her meditation stance on the palace floor. She bolted for her bedroom, narrowly avoiding a previously sleeping Baldir that was nestled beside the fire.

"Uh!" Thor grunted in response, pausing and taking a hit from his sparring partner. He fell onto his back with a mighty slap. "Aswren!"

She threw open her double doors, jumping across the bed to lean over a bowl of water she had placed on her vanity table. The bowl had been blessed and spellbound to allow her to look on the other worlds and realms, occasionally finding Jane Foster or other friends. The eerily blue water rippled gently, presenting an image of the older Loki, walking the streets of Earth. His voice rung out upon her unaccustomed ears in a much sweeter way than the orchestra that lay beneath.

He seemed to be talking to himself. "-Midgardians manage to produce wonderful music..."

She gasped and shuddered, barely managing a whisper. "...He's alive."

Thor came bursting into the room with Mjornir, eyes wide when Aswren tore her gaze from the bowl to look at him. "He's alive!"

"Who?!" He screamed back, lowering the hammer, nerves still tingling.

"Who, for Odin's sake?!"

"Look!" Her hand grabbed his, pulling him to peer into the looking glass and stare down at the slender, dark-haired man who leaned over the balcony overlooking the symphony.

"Brother. He lives! Haha, this is... Where is he?"

"In Midgard, I've seen that building before in my studies. We must get to him." Her voice was eager as she almost bounced up and down with earnest. It reminded Thor so much of when she was younger, filled with life at the tiniest thought of his brother.

"I can take us there. Hurry and change your clothes. I will be right back." He shook her shoulders gently, running out to shut the heavy doors and find Odin to make the arrangements for interworld travel. It was possible, just bloody difficult. For his son, the Allfather would definitely go to the lengths.

Aswren reached into her closet to change her casual clothes into leggings and strap on her armor. In the scramble to buckle her holster, she curiously looked down into the bowl again, lights reflecting in her eyes.

WHACK! Loki's scepter cracked against the unknown man's face with a sickening crunch, followed by Aswren's sharp gasp. He hurriedly parted the crowd, picking out one old gentleman in particular. Loki's strong arm shot out to throw the man on his back, pulling a strange device from his pocket. With a sharp thrust, he ground the machine down on the man's face to presumably cut out his eye. Besides the screaming and scrambling crowd, Loki's own face gave way to a growing sense of thrill and satisfaction.

"Oh no." Aswren choked out, turning away and squeezing her eyes shut. With a wave of her hand the bowl became silent, rippling into blankness.

"Oh, Gods." She whispered, sitting down on the bed and breathing heavily to control the swirling of emotions that threatened to upheave her breakfast.

"Aswren! Come quickly!" Thor burst in, stopping suddenly at her disheveled face.

"Aswren. What happened?" He glanced over at the bowl, tone changing to demand an answer.

"What did he  _do_?"

"... He broke his promise."

Thor's own blue eyes suddenly became anxious. "What are you thinking?"

"I intend to get answers."

"Then let us go—that makes two of us."

* * *

Down on Earth, Loki morphed into his Asgardian garb, proudly toting the scepter. People cried out and tried to scurry away, but he did not seem to acknowledge their terror. Instead he calmly took a powerful stance in front of the crowd.

"Kneel before me." Doppelgangers, his apparitions, appeared in numbers to corner the mass of people.

"I said... KNEEL!" Slowly, all of the Midgardians bent down, eyes darting around in fear at the foreigner.

Loki smiled warmly, outstretching his arms. "Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity: that you crave subjugation. The light of freedom diminishes your life's fulfillment in a mad scramble for power. For identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."

Aswren looked at the portal overlooking the broken BiFrost Bridge. Her eyes narrowed in anger, glowering in betrayal and she almost shook with a vein of sadness. Thor spoke up beside her, clutching Mjornir in similar emotions.

"We cannot hurt him for he is still my brother and your husband. No matter what crimes he has committed, he must be brought back unharmed to stand on trial for these offenses."

"I agree." Her arms were crossed in tension, tightening against her chest before she continued.

"But it's not that simple. He has been alive all of these years, and my looking glass only now sensed his presence? He wants to be found."

"And we will oblige."

"...I don't like this."

They watched Captain America intervene with Aswren lowering her hands, ready to jump through the portal if Loki seemed to be harmed. Tony Stark dived down, striking Loki square in the chest and landing his body with a stiff crunch against the concrete. Her instincts burst to the front of her subconscious, forcing her to try to jump through the portal and screeching when Thor grabbed her across the waist to hold her back. "No! Let me go, he'll hurt him!"

"Aswren, calm down—the Midgardians could never... I don't think... Fine." With a wince he tumbled into the portal, holding Aswren tight as the colored light enveloped them and carried them down into blackness.

* * *

On the aircraft, having apprehended the God, Captain America eyed him with obvious suspicion. "I don't like it."

"What? Rock of Ages giving up so easily?" Tony Stark replied.

"I don't remember it being that easy. This guy packs a wallop."

"Still, you are pretty spry. Ahem, for an older fellow. What's your thing, Pilates? It's like calisthenics. You might have missed a few things doing time as a... Capsicle."

Overhead, a loud crack of thunder and lightning cut their conversation short.

"Where is this coming from?" Natasha questioned. Immediately, sprinkles of rain splattered against the windshield, triggering the wipers.

Loki shuffled in his seat nervously, ears pricking up at the soft drizzle of the rain. Captain spoke up sarcastically. "What's the matter, scared of a little lightening?"

"I'm not overly fond of what follows..." His eyes darted around, looking around for a hint of his brother and perhaps wife. Ex-wife? That was still up for debate. Both heroes looked up with a worried brow, flinching when Thor's heavy frame thunked against the roof, shaking the whole aircraft. A second, smaller point of impact went almost unnoticed.

Tony quickly slipped on his mask, opening the bay doors to face their assailant. Thor's came tumbling inside, his hammer throwing Tony against the Captain and sending sparks around the cabin.

From behind him Aswren came in gracefully from the roof, throwing her palm up and binding the two Avengers with vines of thick ivy that condensed from seemingly thin air. Loki could only gasp and choke in protest when Thor grabbed him by the throat, hauling him to his feet and leaping from the aircraft.

With a roar to increase his strength, Tony ripped through the vines with difficulty, scaring Aswren into diving out of the plane to follow Thor.

"Now there's those guys..."

"Asgardians?!" Natasha yelled over the engines.

Captain America stood on his feet, watching how the broken foliage evaporated into the same thin air it came from. "They don't seem to be friendlies."

"Doesn't matter." Ironman boomed. "If they free Loki or kill him, the Tessaract's lost."

"Stark! We need a plan of attack!"

"I have a plan: Attack." With that proclamation he leapt from the plan, boosters firing behind him.

"I'd sit this one out, Cap." Natasha called as she saw him strap on a parachute.

"I don't see how I can."

"These people come from legends, they're practically Gods."

"There's only one God, ma'am. And I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that." Captain shielded his eyes from the pouring rain, jumping out of the bay doors.

On the ground, Thor came down as gracefully as he could, letting Loki land with a sickening skid and a groan.

"Oh!" He chuckled bitterly in response to the pain.

"Where is the Tessaract?" Thor demanded, getting straight to the point.

"Haha, I missed you too."

"Do I look to be in a gaming mood?!"

Loki slowly brought himself to his feet with a groan. "Oh, you should be thanking me. With the Bifrost gone, how much dark energy did the Allfather have to conjure to bring you here? Your precious Earth."

Thor smashed his hammer against the ground in frustration, snatching his brother up and holding him against a boulder. "...We thought you dead."

"...Did you mourn?"

"We all did. Aswren didn't leave your room for days and then disappeared into self-proclaimed exile. Something is broken inside her that has festered and refused to mend—do you not care?"

"Where is Aswren?" His tone was still matter-of-fact, but straight forward and demanding.

"She came with me, I do not—" His voice was cut off by the sound of steel against rock. The sparks flew up to illuminate Aswren's face, distorted in a mixture of emotions. Neither man spoke, watching her and wondering whether she would scream or burst out into tears.

But when she spoke her voice was surprisingly calm, gentle. "...Put him down, Thor."

Her strong body stalked up the hillside to them, much more intimidating than the girl he remembered. The moon illuminated the rolling coils of muscles in her thighs and arms, as if the blood inside them boiled as hot and angry as her mind.

Her left hand loosened its grip on the sword, letting it clatter to the ground.

_Crack._

She punched him across the cheek.

Loki breathed deeply through his nose, face still turned where she struck him. "...Is that it?"

She leapt forward, throwing her arms around his neck to hug him tight. His eyes widened in shock, hands hesitantly held out, not understanding whether he was allowed to return the embrace.

"I still don't forgive you. But I'm so glad you're alive."

Loki tip-toed around the conversation, looking back at her nervously. "If it's all the same, I think you look wonderful for having—"

"—that's not the point!" She spat at him, causing his lips to wince.

"Thor, myself, your father—"

"—HIS father." Loki held up a silencing finger.

"You certainly told Thor of my true parentage, yes?"

Aswren followed him with her eyes as he attempted to walk away. "I hardly think that had any influence on how deeply we've all suffered."

"Please, Loki." Thor interjected, walking after him.

"We were raised together. We played together, we fought together! Do you remember none of that?"

"I remember a shadow." Loki shot back quickly, turning to face him.

"Living in the shade of your greatness. I remember you tossing me into an abyss—I was, and should be king!"

"So, you take the world I love as recompense for your imagined slights?"

"No, the Earth is under my protection, Loki."

That immediately pulled a cold chuckle from the younger brother. "And you're doing a  _marvelous_ job with that. The humans slaughter each other in droves while you idly fret. I mean to rule them."

"A great man once told me, Loki—" Aswren bit at him with crossed arms.

"—that a wise king never seeks out war."

Loki's face scrunched at the pang of guilt she threw at him, forcefully pushing Thor to the side so he could walk in the other direction. "Do not speak to me of ruling. I have seen worlds you've never known about. I have  _grown_  in my exile. I have seen the true power of the Tessaract, and when I wield it—"

"—who showed you this power?" Thor asked worriedly, approaching him.

"Who controls the would-be king?"

"I AM A KING!"

"NOT here." He leapt forward, roughly grabbing Loki's shoulders.

"You give up the Tessaract, you give up this poisonous dream! And come home."

Loki chuckled, not threatened. "...I don't have it."

Thor grabbed Mjolnir in frustration, ready to threaten but not strike.

"You need the cube to bring me home, but I've sent it off—I know not where."

"You listen well, brother. I—" Thor's sentence was cut short by Ironman tackling him down the mountain, and engaging him in a fight.

"...I'm listening."

"Thor!" Aswren yelled, running up the hill to peer over the edge. Her shoulders slumped when she realized it was only the metal man.

Loki eyed her with an unreadable expression, watching the wind pick up her wavy hair. It was a transparent attempt at appearing indifferent.

"You can attempt to break them up if you'd like, or simply sit back and enjoy the show." He made a flick of his wrist and carefully sat down on a nearby boulder to avoid disturbing his aching back.

"You imply that I'm having fun." Her raised eyebrow turned to look at him from the corner of her eye, still trained on the two men below who made toothpicks of the forest around them. Her stomache tightened. The Elves had always taught her to uphold and respect nature. The way the Midgardian's polluted their atmosphere made the air thick and rank to her unaccustomed nostrils.

"Aren't you? After all, you came accompanied by the Golden Prince." His mouth twisted to the side.

"Speak plainly, Loki."

"You only saw me through your looking glass because I allowed it—"

"—I figured as much. Enlighten me again."

"It means that I was watching you as well, and have come to a conclusion."

She cut off his next thought, holding up a hand and opening her mouth as if to speak. The words caught in her throat at first, and her brow furrowed in frustration. "You mean to accuse me that in your absence…"

The woman had to swallow to finish her sentence, crossing her arms tightly. "…I began to  _fall_  for your br—stepbrother. Is that correct?"

"Haven't you? You seem to be quite the team. And that sword you carry, he taught you how to use it, did he not? I mean, if not Thor then maybe a dark-haired pirate that must have tasted like alcohol and SHAME!" He absolutely snarled, unable to sit anymore and raking his hands through his hair.

"... I'm sorry. I was having hallucinations from the nectar and I saw who I wanted to see.  _You_ , you selfish PRAT! That festival was an attempt to distract myself with family and friends from the fact that the  _single most_  important person in my life was supposedly DEAD!" She threw her arms in the air at the audacity of the situation.

"Oh yes, and you seem to be moving on  _fabulously_."

"Oh, shut up." She shot back, ignoring his shocked expression.

"I don't have to answer to you for something we both know isn't true. Look, I know you don't want me here. But in light of the current situation, Thor and I are the only ones powerful enough to bring you back to Asgard. Surprised? I can more than handle myself in battle, I  _assure_  you."

Blue eyes narrowed, voice dropping down in a threatening way. "So skip the silver-tongued stories, and either ask me to leave properly or I challenge you to make me."

He pondered her dark face for a moment, letting the silence linger before bursting into a light-hearted chuckle. "Oh, Wren, where did you find such fire in your heart?"

His smile was warm when he looked over to her with admiring eyes. "You're certainly not a girl anymore, flower. I would prefer you to detain me over anyone else."

The warrior gasped, looking over to where Thor, the Man of Iron, and a third man had stopped brawling, and were now standing around as they discussed something in quiet voices.

Suddenly, Loki shimmered to appear directly in front of her, close enough to feel his silky whisper.

"Don't leave just on my account."

The princess' softened eyes looked up at him with some emotional cousin of sympathy. "I guess I can forgive you for that last lie."

"I would be deeply humbled, my lady." His hands brought her fingers slowly up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. The trickster's smirk doubled in size when a thick vine of roots came up to bind his wrists.

"Oh, Loki. I know you better than that. But thank you anyway."


	5. Chapter 5

"As soon as Loki took the doctor, we moved Jane Foster. An excellent observatory in Toronto, she was asked to consult there very suddenly yesterday. Handsome fee. Private plane. Very remote... She'll be safe." Coulson looked up to watch the thunder God stare longingly at the photo on the computer screen.

"Thank you... It's no accident, Loki taking Eric Selvig. I dread what he plans for him once he's done. Eric is a good man."

"He talks about you a lot. You changed his life, changed everything around here."

"Things were better as they were. We pretend on Asgard like we're more advanced, but we come here battling like Bilgesnipe." He spat.

Coulson stopped to look at him with wide eyes. "Like what?"

"Bilgesnipe. You know—huge, scaly, big antlers." His hands came up to make horns with his fingers. "You don't have those?"

"Don't think so."

"Well, they are repulsive. And they trample everything in their path." Thor stopped gradually, coming to look down the walkway towards his other Asgardian friend. She was being pleasant, chatting with a Lieutenant who had inquired about the markings on her armor.

"When I first came to Earth Loki's rage followed me, and your people paid the price. And now again. Even Aswren has been forced to fight. Just a few years ago her only worries were deciding a dress to be married in and which spell could grow the flowers in our garden faster. Now magic is just another weapon and her marriage has crumbled at her feet because of my foolishness. I don't know if I can bear to have her blood add to that which already stains my hands. In my youth I called it war—"

"—war hasn't started yet." Nick Fury piped up from the catwalk above them, leaning down to make conversation.

"I'm going to ask you something, but I feel that your friend is equally qualified to answer me." His hand waved over to Coulson who turned to his side to call the warrior.

"Aswren!" Her brown head popped up to look at him with doe eyes.

"Come here for a minute."

Thor skeptically took in the man at the top of the stairs. "What is this about?"

"What do you need?" Aswren inquired.

Fury leaned forward on his hands, coming down the metal steps. "You think you can make Loki tell us where the Tessaract is?"

Thor looked over to meet Aswren's same worried eyes, speaking up for the both of them. "I don't know."

"Negotiation would not be that simple. It's not just power he craves, its vengeance." Her eyes became inflamed, wondering where the train of thought was going.

"Against me." The blonde continued her sentence. "What are you asking us to do?"

"I'm asking, what are you prepared to do?"

Thor looked up at him seriously. "Loki is a prisoner—"

"—So why do I feel he's the only person on this boat who  _wants_  to be here?" The senior agent looked at them both disappointingly, demanding answers.

Aswren crossed her arms, inhaling deeply with a frustration that etched lines into her brow. "Agent Fury. Loki won't yield to torture and interrogation when he knows what you want to hear."

His eyes widened slightly, raising an eyebrow when he knew what she was implying. "You're suggesting we play dirty?"

"Precisely."

* * *

"You can leave at any time, Aswren. If at any point it becomes too much you can simply walk away. Please do that for me?" Thor whispered into the warm air between them, hand clutched in her hair.

"We don't know what he will do."

The Goddess' icy blue eyes stared up into his before they darted across his worried brow. "I have to know."

His polished teeth ground together underneath the muscles of his cheek. "… All right. Be careful."

She nodded back at him, taking the shorter steps two at a time to the metal doors of this mortal ship. Fury's words barely registered as they slipped open with a soft hiss.

"Get us something useful, Aswren. You'll only get to talk to him once."

* * *

In the holding cell, the trickster was waiting for her, feigning surprise.

" _Lady_  Aswren. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

She swallowed around her thick saliva. "Who said this would be a pleasurable visit?"

"Well, I mean to imply that you are less of a nuisance now that I assess you are a worthy opponent."

Aswren's eyes narrowed at him. "Is that what I am to you, an enemy?"

"Aren't you? You've picked your side of the battlefield, and it is not the one where I stand."

The condescending grin across his lips was grating against her patience. "How about a friend? Even if we don't agree that doesn't mean we stand apart. Am I no longer your wife?"

"You never were. I recall sleepless nights, an alliance between two powerful realms, but nothing more."

" _What_?" Aswren whispered, vanishing in a shimmer to reappear inside the trickster's cage. The heroes watching from the conference room sat up in their seats.

"Can she do that?" Captain pointed at the screen. "Is that safe?"

"Don't disturb them." Thor silenced the murmurs with a wave of his hand.

_"They have to finish what was started."_

"You're going to stand at my feet, and deny that you ever loved me? Hundreds of years?"

"You act surprised. We came together under the terms of a contract, one that has been fulfilled. There's no longer relevance to our relationship."

"Relevance? Loki, you're not making sense."

A thick gulp slithered down her throat as he stepped forward to stand in her space. "The Loki I knew would not pretend that we didn't happen."

"Oh, but Wren." His long, elegant hand crept up to brush a wavy lock of hair from her cheek.

"Did we?"

"Yes!" She moaned in earnest, unwavering in her opinion. "Yes, we did. I've looked into your eyes as you told me so, I've shared your bed, seen you vulnerable, your soul bared to me. No one could build a lie for that long."

"I could, you naïve little girl."

"Loki, stop this. If you don't love me anymore… that kind of wound will heal, but I won't let you do  _this_ —"

His hand shot out to her bicep, gripping like a vice so that she could feel her blood vessels breaking and forming a bruise as he spoke.

"—listen to me, you mewling quim. You don't believe me? You are a pathetic excuse for royalty, heiress to nothing more than an overgrown rock populated by savages and witch doctors. The only redeeming qualities you possess is the title before your name, and this vessel for your pitiful soul. Now here you are, nothing more than a concubine graveling at my feet for a petting, mistaking me for someone capable of an emotion as childish and petty as love. I should have you right here, wipe that  _pathetic_  look off your face, and let you think about the true nature of our relationship as you scream and beg for my pity."

Aswren's mouth was wired shut in a shock that left her paralyzed, the color draining from her face as his poisonous gaze bore holes in complexion. In the other room, Thor dragged a hand over his mouth, forced to sit down as he swallowed a burning lump in his throat.

"Aswren, I am so sorry." He whispered into his palm.

The trickster mistook his own shaking for hers as he stared at her unblinking with red-rimmed, bright blue eyes. "How's that for reasons? You're trembling, you can't even  _speak_. I've broken you with mere words instead of my bo—"

 _CRACK!_  Aswren's fist connected with his temple so that the God toppled over, dazed and fighting the black in his vision.

 _THUD! THUMP. SHINK._ Her boot slammed in the center of his chest, knocking him into the air before he fell on his back, completely caught off guard. He finally regained his depth perception when he felt her foot press into his collarbone, sword drawn and blade pressing into his throat.

"…I should kill you. But I know the sorcery of the Tessaract when I see it."

His bitter chuckle wheezed against the blade of her sword, his Adams apple unable to move properly. "Oh, Aswren. You always were the cleverest girl."

_Gasp._

She immediately pitched her sword away with a loud clang, picking him up by the lapels of his coat to look at his face. The blow to the soft part of his skull caused his eyes to swim, unfocused until they met her own, emerald green and clear.

"Is it really you?"

"…Hello, darling." In the silence of their cage, his whisper raked against her oversensitive ears. Here now, as his real voice spoke for the first time in years and time slowed to a crawl, she didn't have to be strong. She didn't have to paint her face to appear composed for loyal subjects, her mother, father, or even Thor, and the golden mask melted away. Loki alone will set eyes upon this face, the face of a woman at the end of a road long traveled and paved by those who believed to have her best interests in mind. But they couldn't see that the only way to heal two broken hearts is to let them mend each other.

A princess who believed she could never be good enough.

A prince that could never be King.

He taught her to believe that she was beautiful.

She  _begged_  him to understand that not all kings wear a crown.

Their worlds for so long had been so small, and even now through trials and tribulations they were still the center of each other's universes. And is that not what makes them so dangerous? The desire to crush the memories of one who has betrayed you cannot trump an urge to take them back into your arms and whisper that everything will be all right. Especially when they are all you've ever known.

"I want to hate you."

"I want you to be my past."

"And yet I need you to love me."

"I need you to _stay._ "

Neither of them noticed how they had become so entangled, Aswren sitting on his lap, her legs laid out behind his back, body folded into a size that his arms could envelope completely.

"Why is this happening to us?" Aswren whispered into his chest, her voice distorted by tears.

 _"… Because I love you."_  Odin withheld the truth because he thought his son was satisfied with the life that he had made with his best friend. Both fathers waited so long to divulge the nature of their arranged marriage because they knew the two were already in love. Aswren's soul was stolen to curb the guilt Loki would feel if she were to witness his crimes. The vengeance that latched itself to the trickster's heart was poisoning him further when he thought of how Odin had not only wronged him but the woman he loved. And for years he stayed away, protecting Aswren from the war that was coming to Earth, from the celestial beings who would come for him in the event of his failure. And to protect her again, he would pretend that he didn't love her.

_"When we have her, you will long for something as sweet as pain."_

"Get her out of here." Fury's voice commanded from the door.

"What, no! Don't touch me!" Aswren yelled, pulling at the guards that lifted her by the arms up and off the prisoner. They double-cuffed her, hauling her to her feet and dragging her from the cage.

"Let me go! Loki!" She called. The God rose to his feet calmly, brushing off his trousers as he met her eyes. He made no move to answer, nor fight for her release. And as the guards slowly filed out of the glass cage, the door closed with a hiss… and he turned away.

"… I don't understand." She whispered.

In the other room, the soldiers slammed her down into a chair, latching the cuffs to the rungs along the back.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Aswren questioned the man with the eye-patch pacing in front of her.

"I could ask you the same question. You were asked to get information regarding the Tessaract, not get into a fist-fight and host a phony soap opera. You assured me you could get him to talk, but we are no better off than we were an hour ago."

"Let me explain—"

"—no, you're done talking. Now, I don't care if you and Thor are a packaged deal. You are emotionally compromised for this mission and I will not have that as a hindrance. You're off my ship, is that understood?"

_"It's an impressive cage. Built not, I think, for me."_

_"Built for something a lot stronger than you."_

_"Oh, I've heard."_

"… The doctor."

" _What?_ " The captain spat at her.

"Doctor Banner. The monster is his plan, at least on this ship." Her blue refused to meet him, partially ashamed and suddenly interested in her lap.

"And how the hell do you know that?"

"My people are called Vanir. We have limited telepathic connections with those we are close to. When he was under the influence of the Tessaract, I saw that he means to unleash the Hulk."

Nick Fury leaned back on his heels, arms crossed and one good eye pinning her down. "… That's more like it. In exchange for that information, you can stay. For now. But remember why you are here, Asgardian. The man in that glass cage? You're here to fight, or kill him if the situation calls for it. I won't have the safety of everyone on this ship and my planet in jeopardy because you aren't willing to do whatever is necessary."

"… Agreed."

"Good. You'll stay in that chair until I come back. I don't have to tell you what will happen if you leave."

The Captain made something of a sneer on his way out, quite possibly a sigh as the doors swished open and closed behind him. Aswren slumped against her bonds when he passed by the window, mentally dwelling on how fortunate she was that these foolish Midgardians knew nothing of her race and their gifts. She struggled against the steel cuffs holding her to the chair, cursing the position that kept her from gaining leverage to break them apart. Left alone to her own demons, the goddesses' mind wandered back to minutes before, how Loki had not struggled against the guards that watched him rise to his feet.

_He let her go._

She had looked into his eyes, begged for there to be sorcery clouding his irises an icy blue, but there was none.

**_He_ ** _had let her go._


End file.
